In This Way

begin again
because my heart
is not a stone

Pine sap candles – brief in expression – manifold in meaning.

Who sees with the eyes of Majnun?

The difference between breaking and breaking open, now coming into play.

Mawlana sings: you and I should live as if you and I never heard of you and I.

Healer as messiah.

Lover as the tears of God.

Snow and leaves falling – crisscrossing in concert – the applause of pines.

Giving away words when one is no longer able to tend them in the heart.

And finally, my yearning known as a gift – a sanctified path bringing my heart to the threshold of understanding God's Own Heart for me.

Our external dance is not entirely disembodied from the soul that also sways.

Meld, shall we?

In this way, we are we.

In this way, we remember.

In this way, we see what is beautiful and we enter.

In this way, we are born again.

Nightfall by 5 p.m. – the gleaming slant of snow-powered roofs, strew about the neighborhood like place cards tented on the table at a wedding feast.

Our Divine invitation has been stamped and sealed with wax melted by our outrageous flame – I feel the heat.